My cock stood rigid as I paused to look down on the man lying beneath me before settling between his open legs. For one instant it was tsightof It It was the thought of another man beneath me that flashed through my mind, and I could still hear the words I said, “Dad, I’m going to give you a fucking that you’ll never forget.”
Looking back over my life so far, I can point to the summer after graduating from high school when I went to live with my father as the origin of my free sexual attitudes. What is more likely, however, is that the seeds had already been sown and my environment only supplied the water and fertilizer.
After graduating from high school in an Atlanta suburb, I went to live with my father in Texas. He had agreed to pay all expenses for me to attend a nearby community college during the school year in exchange for my working in his machine shop during the summer. .
My parents were divorced when I was ten. That was when I had gone back East to live with my extremely religious mother. The stark contrast in how my parents viewed life made their marriage irreconcilable. My father had been raised by hippy parents; her father was a minister. “That heathen” was how my mother often referred to my father.
Their agreement at the divorce was that I would spend four weeks every summer with my father. From my perspective, I never saw anything that I thought was “heathen” from my father; I only thought that summers with Dad were fun. Of course I had not yet moved in with him permanently and had no inkling of the surprises in store for me.
To this day I can clearly remember my shock when, on my first night at his house following my move in, he came out of the bathroom wearing only his boxer shorts then proceeded to remain dressed like that for the rest of the evening.
Not that there was anything wrong with him wearing only his underwear, it was his house. It’s just that I had never seen an adult lounging around who wasn’t either fully clothed or wrapped in a robe. He must have caught the surprised look on my face since his indifferent acknowledgement of his state of dress related to my now living there full-time. He said that this was part of the casual “lifestyle” that he practiced at home when I was away at my mother’s, and this was how he intended to continue now that I was there full time.
I wasn’t certain of what that meant by “lifestyle,” but there was no further discussion. As he sat beside me on the sofa to begin leafing through a magazine, his thighs spread to reveal a large bulge along his left leg and from the fly of his underwear a tangle of dark brown pubic hairs emerged. Though I was attempting to keep my eyes on the television, his open legs seemed to offer an invitation to sneak glances at his crotch.
His boxers were soft cotton and pressing against the fabric was the bulge of his thick cock and balls. He was hanging on the left leg and when he shifted on the couch to bring his right foot to rest on the sofa, the bulge became even more emphasized and the fly opened further letting the mash of tangled hair jut through. Buried in his magazine, he seemed indifferent to me sitting beside him as he lifted his butt and reached down to tug on the fabric bunched against his cock.
Getting another glance at his crotch, my heart accelerated. My own cock was beginning to swell at the sight. Feeling embarrassed and somewhat ashamed of the reaction I was having to my father, I left the sofa and quickly retreated to my room saying that I wanted to go to bed early. I heard him only vaguely mumble, “Good night.”
Once alone in my bed, still fraught with quilt that my father might have sensed my interest in his crotch, I took the shaft of my hardening cock and began masturbating rapidly. Images of naked men from magazines that I had snuck peeks between the pages along with memories of handsome students from my school were now joined by a new image of my father sitting in front of the television with his legs wide spread.
In my imagination, his cock grew hard as my fingers slipped over to touch it. My fantasy expanded to include my hiding unnoticed in the kitchen and watching him engage in pleasuring himself. He pulled down his boxers, pushing them down toward his knees and began making circles with his palm around his engorged purple cock head.
Sprawled back in my bed and with my own legs spread, I rubbed my own swollen shaft, just as I imagined him doing to his. Reaching down with my free hand I grasped my balls and squeezed them. In my mind I saw him grasping his ball sack just as his hand stroked the dripping head of his cock; we were jerking off together.
Caught in these thoughts and unable to resist moaning, I said aloud, “Oh Dad, stroke that big cock of yours, stroke it Dad.” Lost in my fantasy, suddenly strong ribbons of cream began shooting from my rod as I cried aloud, “Fuck, oh fuck!” ending the fantasy. Large globs of sticky semen landed on my belly, pooling around my navel. With my fingers, I began slowly spreading it over my midsection as I fell asleep.
Dad owned a small machine shop in front of the country house where he lived, about a mile outside a medium-sized East Texas town. His property bordered on state parklands that were heavily forested and included streams, ponds, a medium-sized lake, and even rumors of a ghost.
During summer evenings on earlier visits, when my father would return from work, we’d set out together exploring nature. He was a good instructor and spent great care teaching me about the forest and its inhabitants. These times were a refreshing escape to me as I grew into young manhood. They offered a sharp contrast to the strict environment that existed living with my Mother.
My education over those years of summers included more than the flora and the fauna. Suspecting that my Mother and her new husband were reluctant to even hint about sex, my Dad supplied me with appropriate knowledge of reproduction and my own body. He was always unashamed and matter-of-fact with his information, so as the years went by I became a repository of facts about the subject which I freely conveyed to my school chums. Consequently, even though I was shy and could be withdrawn, I soon had a reputation at school of being “experienced” at sex, which I certainly wasn’t. As part of my education, Dad had also emphasized that “self-discovery” for a young man was not only normal but expected, including a few details on what to do. From puberty onward I had practiced a lot.
By the end of that first week of living full-time with him, I had become accustomed to seeing him half-dressed in his boxers. I had even caught an occasional glimpse of his naked body as he moved from our shared bathroom to his bedroom. What I wasn’t accustomed to was the growing thrill of my reaction every time I saw his manly form on display. Alarmed by these reactions, I sought to avoid them by spending most of the time hiding away in my room; even while, at the same time, my father’s body increasingly became the focus of my fantasies.
During day hours, I quickly fell into the routine of work around the shop, beginning mostly with odds and ends related to clean-up and organization. The three other employees, a skinny young blonde man a few years older than me, Hank, and two older Hispanic men, Juan and Rodrigo, soon began treating me as just another co-worker. I was included in all their smutty jokes, their innuendos, and the general hijinks of shop talk. My dad was even noticeably more relaxed than I had remembered him on my previous visits.
When I was still in school, though Dad had been great fun to be with, he had kept a distance between us. From the first day of my arrival that summer, I began noticing other changes, besides his dress around the house. Not only did he curse more and occasionally join in the familiarity of idle shop talk at work; but when we were alone, he treated me less like a boy and more as an equal. Among the changes, he began calling me Dave or David instead of Davie as he had used since I could remember.
Dad was taller and darker than me and had a stocky, muscular frame, as I remained slender. I had reached my full height of just less than six feet, whereas he stood nearly 6 foot 1 inches. I also favored my mother with a reddish complexion, sandy hair and little body hair whereas dad had a fury chest with a trail leading down to his pubic area. I became fascinated by this trail.
My face composed the faired Scandinavian features of my mother’s side rather than the swarthiness of my father’s Italian genes. However, I have his dark brown eyes. In school I had often been teased during showers after gym for my bright bush of reddish orange pubic hair. My senior year I had taken to trimming it down to lessen the effect of what a friend of mine had once called, “an orange bird’s nest.”
Growing accustomed to my father’s new casualness toward me, my attitudes still elevated to shock one Saturday morning when, after rising later than normal, I dressed and went to the kitchen to start coffee. I heard noises from his bedroom.
Coffee started, I returned down the hallway toward the open door of my bedroom when the door to his room across from mine opened and he emerged buck naked and sporting a partial erection. I gasped when my rapid eyes took in details of his swollen cock.
While I stood dumbfounded in the hallway, he casually looked first at me, and then he stretched and yawned before looking down at his himself and muttering, “Morning wood.” Amused at his joke, he padded down the hall to the bathroom, his thick buttocks rolling as he walked.
Stunned, I stood red-faced and immobile. I watched him through the open door way step to the toilet and release a heavy stream of urine. “Damn that feels good,” he said turning toward me, as though he was waiting for me to add some comment. I was speechless.
Thankfully distracted by gurgling from the coffee pot, I scurried back to the kitchen. With lingering images of my father’s engorged cock in my mind, I welcomed the distraction of coffee.
Bracing myself on the kitchen cabinet, I inhaled deeply, willing my heartbeat to slow, and tried to remember which cabinet held the coffee cups. Without fanfare, Dad walked into the kitchen still naked. Even though his cock was now nearly flaccid, from the corner of my eye I caught sight of one the biggest that I’d ever seen. His foreskin stretched down nearly covering the head but stopped short, just exposing the tip of his penis with its slit peering out.
Ignoring me while casually reaching past me to open a cabinet door and take out a cup, my father said, “Didn’t mean to shock you.” He continued talking while pouring himself coffee; “I should have warned you that I spend a lot of time around the house nude, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.” Obviously bemused and grinning he said, “You should have seen the look on your face.” Looking me in the eye, he winked and added, “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”
I stood staring down at the counter top as if I was transfixed by a speck on the laminate.
He then began awkwardly struggling through a rambling explanation of how he practiced nudity during the months while I was living at my Mom’s. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable and not used to explaining himself. His rambling ending with, “So I like living this way. Besides, it’s my house and nobody’s damn business,” his voice rose toward the end when he added, “Hell, society places so many restrictions on us out there,” his hand pointing with contempt toward a window, “I figure a man should get to live in his own home without their damn rules and regulations.”
I supposed that he expected me to agree with him, but with my mind still blank, I could only reach to take a cup from the cabinet. The knot in my throat prevented me from uttering a sound.
Though I wished that he would just shut up, he didn’t. “I guess that’s one of the reasons why your mother and I never got along. She’s so damned up tight,” he added. With a trembling hand, I began pouring coffee for myself and continuing to avert my eyes from him. “Where am I supposed to be looking when he’s naked like this?” I thought. However, an inner voice told me where I wanted to be looking.
“Maybe I should have warned you about how I am, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.” Then he spread his arms and concluded, “So, are you okay with your old man going around the house bare-assed?” Whether intended or not, he switched to a tone sounding vaguely like a threat, “You could always go live back with your mother if it’s not.”
Horrified by the thought of my mother, I uttered a sound that must have sounded like a squeal, “No.” Realizing how that sounded, I lowered my voice and blurted, “I mean sure, its okay, everything’s okay,” and walked to the kitchen table to sit, primarily because of a swelling in my pants. “Shit,” I thought, “He’ll think that I’m some type of pervert.”
“Well,” Dad said as he sat down opposite me, “you’ll get used to me. I guess I don’t think like most people.” Switching subjects abruptly he began idly talking about the day ahead including fishing on the lake that afternoon. I would soon learn that it was typical of him to switch subjects in mid-stream. And typical for me, even though I was nearly nineteen, I still hadn’t learned that conversations could be two-ways and that it was alright to ask for elaboration.
Meanwhile, while appearing to listen, my thoughts were zooming around my head like cars at a go-cart track. “What am I supposed to say here? Why am I circumcised and he’s not? What if somebody comes around and he’s naked?” And, “Did he notice my hard-on?” Then the worst thought of all, “I want to see more, I’m enjoying this.”
Looking back at that morning I realize that was when a door cracked open in me; one that I had been only vaguely aware of. Sure there had been noises behind it, and I had always been suspicious of what was there, but not until that morning did it begin to clarify itself and I finally understood why the girls in school hadn’t interested me.
After breakfast he said it was time to head out and he disappeared into his room to emerge a few minutes later wearing cut-offs and a t-shirt as well as boat shoes. Dressed as he was, though he was in his early 40s, he could have passed for a much younger man. He was a father that I could be proud of. “You ‘bout ready?” he threw my way, and off we went to complete our chores.
Following a trip into town to the grocery store and later a stop at a parts shop where he purchased a few items for the business, we were back at the house. After unloading the purchases, he announced, “Time to go fishing.” Before heading out the door he paused, looked at me and said, “You’re not going out like that, are you? Hell, you look like you’re dressed for school.”
I was wearing what I had been taught by my mother was appropriate weekend casual wear, jeans, polo and very clean sneakers. Though I had shorts, she didn’t like me to wear them and so, I discovered on arriving here, she hadn’t packed any. My swim suit was also back at her house. “Your legs are so white,” she used to complain, as though somehow was my fault.
Well,” I stumbled, “I guess it’s all I brought,” feeling sheepish and gullible for letting her pack for me.
He shook his head and said, as though he was perplexed by me, “You’ve lived with your mother too long. Didn’t you bring any shorts? What happened to the ones you had last summer?” he added.
“Mom said they were too old and ratty and threw them away.”
He rolled his eyes with the mention of my mother, rubbed his chin, and then said, “Let’s see what we can come up with. Come with me,” and we paraded down to his room.
Digging through a couple of drawers he examined a few pair of shorts and cut offs then commenting that everything was too large for me. “You got your slim build from your mom’s side.” He got an idea and went to his closet and after rummaging around a bit, he came out holding an old pair of white nylon running shorts. “These are old but the waist stretches. They’re too small for me and the string is still in them. You can tighten it to fit you.” Tossing them toward me he added, “Put them on,” followed by, “and find an old t-shirt to wear, while I put together a lunch for us.”
I went to my bedroom and quickly changed. Looking at myself in the mirror, I felt exposed in the flimsy white shorts. They were a size too large and, even though they included a net liner, it was loose and I wished that I had a pair of briefs to wear underneath. Between my legs everything felt unprotected and hanging loose. However, since I hadn’t packed my only jock and wore only boxer underwear, there was nothing I could put on to contain my genitals.
I came out of my room to hear him say, “My god your legs are white. You’d better slap on the sun screen or you’ll boil like a lobster.” Once again I felt blamed for something I had no control of. I fantasized saying to the angel in charge of assigning bodies, “Sure, I’d like those white legs, the skinny ones.”
We soon set off with boat in tow for Eagle Lake several miles away at the northern end of the state park. My Dad had a permanent park pass. Waving to the guard as we passed, we were at the lake with the boat in the water in what seemed like no time at all. After we had cast off, Dad mentioned a cove about half a mile from the landing where he preferred to fish at that time of day. Soon we pulled into the isolated cove, anchored and killed the engine.
After saying “Let’s get ready to fish,” he stood in the boat and, without ceremony, unsnapped and dropped his cut offs, revealing that he was wearing an old pair of yellow Speedos underneath. The elastic around the legs was frayed and fit loosely. This wasn’t how he had dressed when we went fishing on my previous visits.
Looking at his bulging crotch, I thought of how my cock and balls were dangling unconfined between my own legs. He quickly doffed his t-shirt, sat down with his back toward me and said, “Put some sunscreen on my back, will you. It’s in that bag,” he said motioning toward a small bag he had brought.
While pretending to pay attention to him chatting away about when and where fish bite, I poured an amount of lotion in my palm and began rubbing it over his shoulders. The act felt strange and more familiar than anything I had ever experienced with my father. I was starting to feel a flush over my face. Privately I was also trying to ignore the small thrill that was beginning to build in my stomach as I touched him.
His back was broad and muscular. When he sat on the plank the skimpy suit pulled downwards revealing the upper half of his butt crack. A light dusting of fur covered his rear. My eyes feasted with the sight while my mind rebelled at what I was doing.
Once I’d finished I handed him the lotion and he stood facing away from me to begin spreading oil over his chest, arms, and while bending forward, the front and back of his legs. I took in the view of his full, firm butt cheeks straining against the yellow nylon. A view of his ass crack was clear through the thin fabric. “Whew,” I thought relishing in the view.
When he’d finished he tossed me the sunscreen with instructions to “rub it in good and heavy everywhere.” Then he sat down facing me and began to rummage through his tackle box preparing our rods and lines. While I rubbed my face I snuck peaks at him sitting in front of me.
With his legs splayed open, the bulge between them strained against the thin yellow suit. The matting of hair on his groin created a dark smear under the thin fabric. The suite obviously had no inner lining. “Had he cut it out?” I thought. Sticking out from the frayed leg openings were dark, curly pubic hairs and a protrusion of skin from his ball sack. His Speedo was not only old but too small.
Engrossed in the view between my Father’s legs, I was grateful that the shorts he’d given me were too big since I was having trouble keeping down an erection. I was relieved when he instructed me to turn around so that he could rub lotion over my back and neck.
Dad didn’t seem to notice my predicament and, while he rubbed, was absorbed in an explanation of casting in this part of the lake. With a burning face, I was more concerned with keeping my legs together to hide what was happening between them. Finally we cast our lines and I was grateful to focus on something else; even though it was taking considerable effort.
At one point in the afternoon, Dad looked around and said, “Looks like nobody is around here.” True, only a few boats had come in our cove, but quickly left for other fishing spots. Standing carefully in the boat he pulled down the front of the Speedo, tucked it under his testicles, and took hold of his cock then began pissing over the boat edge into the lake. He looked at me and chatted away as though nothing was happening; I supposed that in his mind it was no big deal. However, judging from the swelling between my legs, it was a very big deal to me.
When he asked, “Don’t you need to piss?” I felt the skin of my face flush. Shaking my head “no,” I quickly closed my knees to conceal the rising. He was soon back fishing away; apparently he was oblivious to the reactions his exposure was causing me.
The afternoon passed by slowly and, to my relief, there were no more “sightings”. The fish weren’t biting well and the small lake bass that we did catch was returned to the water. Eventually Dad reeled in one suitable for eating. “This’ll fry up real fine,” he commented. Then he announced, “That’s enough for today.”
As late afternoon shadows crept over the lake we returned to the landing, loaded the boat, and headed home. Back at home Dad stripped to his Speedos again to begin gutting and cleaning the fish in preparation for the fry pan. I busied myself about the kitchen trying to help, though did change back into jeans after making the comment that the shorts “weren’t comfortable.” He replied that he would buy me something more suitable and the subject was dropped.
Later that evening I rose to go to my room before bed. He asked that I wait a minute because there was something that he wanted to talk to me about. Approaching where I stood, he placed his hands on his hips and gave me a look that over the years I had come to dread. It said, “I know what’s going on here and you’re going to have to ‘fess up.”
“There’s something I want to bring up with you Dave.”
That sounded ominous to me. I looked down to escape his gaze but only encountered the bulging package of the Speedo.
With disbelief I heard him blurt out, “Quit being so damned embarrassed about getting a boner. We all get them over something. They’re normal.”
“Crap,” I thought staring past the Speedo to the floor, he’d noticed all along. Was he suspicious about me?
“Don’t worry about trying to hide it when it’s just us. What turns you on is your business. You’re young and you’ve got a lot of experimenting ahead of you.”
I looked back at him startled by what he said next, “What are you going to do if you come home some night and I’m sitting on the couch jacking and watching porn? Are you going to make me feel all guilty?”
Dumfounded at the idea, I could only slowly shake my head ‘no,’ my mouth gapping open.
“Just don’t freak out on me if that happens.” Then, just as directly as he had begun, he said, “I’m tired, we can talk about this another time.” Casually patting me on the shoulder he said, “Good night, son,” effectively ending any more conversation. He went to his room and closed the door.
I stood flabbergasted by this man but intrigued at the prospect of what he had just described. But before sleep could take me, I again became caught up in a melee of memories from earlier years, of times with friends exploring our bodies, of the one time I’d spent with a girl that I had dated when she let me “cop a feel.” But now included in the usual mix were vivid thoughts of my father in and out of his Speedos. I imagined seeing his swollen cock, and even touching it. Now with a hard rod standing between my legs, I took hold of myself and stroked until hot spurts splashed over my stomach and freed me to sleep.
I woke early the next day in another state of arousal. Lying on my stomach, I began pressing my hips down on the mattress until the discomfort of a full bladder became more immediate than feelings of pleasure.
Out of bed and on my feet, I paused before opening the door to consider if I should put on my pants before going to the bathroom. I didn’t hear my dad about so I thought, “What the fuck, when in Rome….”
As I stepped from the room I was startled by the sound and sight of the door to my father’s room opening and him stepping into the hallway completely naked with a hard cock to match my own, except his was thicker. We both froze, just staring at each other. He broke the awkward moment with a slight smile, “Looks like we’ve both got a situation.” Then he added while motioning me toward the bathroom, “You go ahead.”
Lowering my head in embarrassment I quickly stepped into the room, reaching to close the door behind me. His hand stopped the closing as he came in saying, “No way, buddy, I’ve got to go, too.”
Stepping beside me at the toilet, his hip nudged me over to make room for him and he pressed down on his erection to release a hard flow of urine splashing into the bowl. I tried looking elsewhere but felt my face reddening as he said laughingly, “It’s a bitch trying to piss with a hard-on, isn’t it?”
As his stream began to slow, he asked, while looking directly downward at my crotch, “I’m curious as to why you trim your pubes down there? What’s with that?” He said this nonchalantly as he shook his cock, and with his fingers squeezed out the last drop, “Is it something you younger guys are doing now?”
After much internal squeezing of my own, my bladder finally had let go even though the flow was thinned by the pressure needed to keep my dick pointing downward. Mumbling I responded with “I guess.”
He finished pissing and stepped back while continuing to look at my body, “I dated a chick once who shaved her pussy…”
“Dad,” I nearly yelled, “Quit looking at me so I can piss!”
Chuckling out loud he patted me on my butt cheek as he passed behind me. ”Sorry, I forget that you’re so damn modest.”
I still had a raging erection, despite finishing my piss, and it sprang upward as I turned to the sink. After rinsing my hands I splashed cool water on my face in an effort to quell my reddening. Even through my embarrassment, all of this weirdness gave me a feeling of pleasure.
I left the bathroom still sporting wood to find him waiting for me in the hallway leaning against the wall sipping on his coffee.
“We need to talk about this Dave,” he began. I suppressed an urge to cover myself but thought, “What the hell, since he he’s so damn uninhibited let him see it.” A small charge trilled through my stomach.
“In my opinion,” he began and I could tell that a speech was coming, “your mother and her freaky ways did a lot more harm to you than any behavior of mine ever could.”
Looking down at his own body, with his thick penis now hanging soft, he said, “If my going around this way embarrasses you, I’m sorry. But in the long run, your ability to accept other people just the way they are means a lot more to me than all of this modesty you’ve picked up from her.” With a conspicuous glare he said, “Regardless of what life style you chose for yourself, it needs to be out of your choice or preference instead of somebody else’s hang ups,” he finished with an attitude of having spoken something profound.
I thought to myself, “Nero before the Senate couldn’t have done better.” Out of a sudden impulse I blurted out without thinking, “Good, let’s just hang a sign out front saying ‘Nudist Colony Inside.’” With this outburst I felt the pressure release and my erect penis begin to withdraw.
He flinched with surprise and laughed out loud. “Great idea, you want to help me make one? It might be fun to see who shows up.” Then he got serious and began an explanation.
“David, I grew up with four brothers, as you know, and we all shared one bedroom. From my earliest memories, there was no privacy between us. As soon as one of us hit puberty the subject in our room was sex, sex, and more sex. We compared our dicks, measured our erections, hell we jerked off together. There was nothing sacred or private.” Looking at me sympathetically he continued, “I realize that’s not what you’ve been used to, but I don’t think this openness does any harm. If it does, I’m sorry.”
Grateful for my erection subsiding, I decided to get honest. “Ok,” I spouted, “Since we’re now going to be so open, I’ve been wondering how come you’re not circumcised,” I pointed downward towards his cock, “and I am?” It excited me to be so bold and to focus attention on his penis.
Looking down, he grabbed his foreskin and pulled his cock downward and out.
“He sure likes grabbing his dick,” I thought.
“You mean this? Shit, that was your mother again. She thought that everything about a man’s prick was dirty. If she could have had yours cut off I think she would have.” He shrugged, “I don’t know why she cared. She’s barely touched one in her life.” He said this all the while continuing to stretch out his long foreskin.
The sight of this brought me swelling upward again. “Shit,” I thought to myself, “how can I stop this?”
Laughing and pointing down at me, he said “We’d better talk about this some other time. You’re boning up again.” I began to blush again. With a grin he continued, “If we have to wait for you to rub one off we’ll never get there.”
Turning to enter his room he paused to casually throw out, “Maybe I shouldn’t point this out, but you do get pretty loud when you play with yourself in there, you know.”
Startled by his comment, I snapped back; “What the fuck? That was uncalled for.”
“Hey, don’t get bent out of shape, I’m just teasing. I don’t care what you do in your bed,” he added with a wink and a light punch my shoulder. Turning back into his room he continued with a big grin, “Besides, I can get pretty loud myself. Like father like son, I guess,” he flippantly threw off while opening a drawer to reach for his underwear.
My face was steaming when I entered my room and quickly closed the door. I looked down to see my dick sticking straight up and thought, “And he thinks that my mother is weird.” At the same time I was unable to suppress the excitement in my belly. Being naked with my father had been not only embarrassing but thrilling at the same time. I dressed reluctantly wishing we could stay naked together all day.
Our visit at my grand parents hurried by, and after a great lunch, Dad and I spent the afternoon engaged in cleaning their yard, doing some minor repairs around their house, and tuning my grandfather’s car. Near sunset my grandmother arrived with a box of leftovers and announced that we should be heading back before it got dark.
We said our goodbyes and went on our way. Our conversation during the day and on the drive back was minimal and only about general things, though I was anxious to return to the subject of that morning and being naked together. I was filled with loads of questions, though wasn’t sure if I could get them answered, or which might tick him off. Looking at his profile while he drove I took in how handsome he was. I also thought, “What a strange man my father is. How different he is from me.”
Once at home, famished after the day of work, we both dove into our dinners. I longed to renew the feelings of intimacy that I had felt that morning with my father.
“Man, do I feel dirty,” I announced after finishing my supper. “I guess I’ll take a shower once I’ve finished here,” I added in hopes that he would pick up the thread.
“Go ahead,” he replied, “if you want to.”
I was disappointed by his indifference and fumbled for a way to proceed. In my head I’d already fantasized that he might join me in the shower, although I had no idea of the implications.
Dad finished up his own dinner and, on his way to the sink with his plate, said “Okay, since you want to clean up I have an idea.” Looking me directly in my face he asked, “Are you up for a little nocturnal adventure?”
I assured him that I was and he responded that he was thinking about showing me something different to do at night around here.
I asked “What’s that?” but he only replied, “You’ll see.”
After cleaning the table he then started undressing right in our kitchen. Pointing toward me, he said “Strip down to your skivvies and shoes; the ground will be rough where we’re going.”
On the command of “Strip,” I quickly undressed, excited by the prospects of what might be ahead. With no further explanation he headed out the back door followed by me; a tent now beginning to show in my boxers. After this morning’s talk, I was feeling less inhibited about getting an erection with him around, even excited by it.
Looking backward he said, “Follow me.” He added while pointing upward, “There’s a full moon tonight, so we won’t have any trouble finding our way.” He strode purposefully with me in pursuit across the one hundred or so yards to the back of his property where the state preserve began. Stopping at the border of barbed wire fencing, he pressed down on the bottom strand, lifted the one above and said, “Careful when you climb through.”
I stooped to climb between the wires and then held them apart while he followed. Once through the fence, he stopped and said, “We’ll leave these here.” He pulled down his boxers, stepped out of them, and tossed them on a fence post in one smooth and apparently experienced motion. Noticing my hesitation he said, “Don’t get all silly on me, we’ll go naked from here on.” I followed through with some apprehension. Our exertion had caused my latest erection to subside.
“What if we get caught,” I thought, but figured I’d better keep that to myself, hoping he knew what he was doing.
Walking ahead into the dark woods he followed a path that seemed familiar to him. As we passed in and out of shadows, dapples of silvery moon light revealed his naked form in front of me. My eyes took in his broad frame with its slightly thickened waist, but mainly I fixated on the taunt round butt cheeks that rolled as he walked. I was tempted to grab one. With the thought of touching him, warm sensations filled my loins and my penis became heavier, starting to swing side to side and hitting against my legs while I walked.
I asked where we were going, but he only replied, “You’ll see.”
“Are you sure there’s nobody in here?” I queried in a hushed tone.
“Nah, the park closes at night,” he replied.
“But aren’t there guards?” I replied, my concern increasing as we got deeper into the park. I had fears of being caught, but chided myself. I sounded like my mother with her multitudes of anxieties.
“Hell no,” he answered. “The state can’t afford any. I figure that anybody else who’s in here has their own reasons, same as us.”
“What are our reasons?” I wondered. I was still having trouble getting my mind around my walking around the woods naked with my dad. “Maybe this is a dream,” I mused, but quickly dismissed that. I did have to admit that, though still nervous, I was starting to really enjoy the experience.
After perhaps a half-mile on the winding path, I saw ahead of us what appeared to be a bright clearing in the woods. Follow his lead; I stepped through a cluster of dense brush into an opening that revealed a pond, perhaps a hundred feet across.
“This is it,” he said as I came up beside him. “Its spring fed and flows into that small creek over there,” he said pointing. “It’s five or six feet deep in the middle. I figured it would be more fun to clean up here than at home.” He added, “I come out here a lot.” He grinned at me as though to say, “I told you so.” After slipping out of his shoes he stepped into the water’s edge to a bottom that quickly went downward. He was soon up to his shoulders in the water.
I stepped out of my sneakers and, after a few tentative steps, was beside him in the cold water. “Brr,” I chattered, “this is cold.” My feelings of apprehension left me with the jolt of cold water.
“Yeah, it’s from an underground spring,” he replied, slowing paddling his arms backward.
As we lazily floated around the pond, I began to relax more to the experience of being out here with my father naked in the moonlight. Our legs brushed a few times causing a surge of warmth inside of me.
Though the water was bright from the moonlight, the pond, surrounded by walls of loblolly pines, oaks and box elders, seemed to be a secret, shadowy place. I imagined that this might have been a place of an ancient initiation ceremony. Perhaps the native Indians had used it for that.
I stood on the stony bottom leading upward to the creek. Bending forward and using my hands I scampered up the shallow side that carried overflow from the pond. “It’s rocky here,” I said back to my father.
“Yeah,” he replied, “be careful with your feet.” Soon he also emerged from the pond and I extended my hand to help him step up. We stood naked together in the creek bed while water trickled down our bodies.
“This creek eventually peters out,” he said. “I think that the water eventually absorbs back into the aquifer below here.”
“How often do you come out here?” I asked, acutely sensitive to the feeling of standing naked with my Father; our bodies were nearly touching. I felt an upsurge of affection for this bohemian man.
“I come out here some,” was his reply. Laughing to himself he said self consciously, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I come out here to play a game I call Nature Boy.”
“Nature Boy,” I asked curiously, “what is that?”
“It’s just a game I play in my mind,” he replied. “It helps me shake off my worries, any that I may be having over business or anything else. It reminds me of why I love living out here in the country.”
I realized at that moment that I truly had no idea of who this man was, until now I’d only seen him before as “Dad.” Looking at him standing there it felt like I was meeting him for the first time. The thought made me uneasy, but at the same time I couldn’t deny the erotic thrill that I was having.
“What’s this Nature Boy thing?” I persisted. “You said that it’s a game?”
“I shouldn’t have said that it’s a game,” he replied looking around. “It’s more a state of mind, I’d guess.” He hesitated before then turning to me and saying, “If you really want to know I suppose that I could teach you.”
Now curious, I said, “Sure, why not?”
He continued sternly, “I’ll warn you; it’s something that we’ve never done before,” then a short pause before ending with “at least not together.” He added with a wry look, “And we both know that you get embarrassed pretty damn easily.”
Not sure of what I was getting into I decided to go along, “Sure, I mean I’m game for anything,” and added, “I’ll try not to be embarrassed.”
“Just remember that you’re the one asking here,” he said, sounding like it was a warning. He took a deep breath and began talking to me softly.
“To play Nature Boy, you have to just empty your mind,” he said. “Those rules and restrictions about modesty that you’ve been given in your life, your inhibitions, you just let them go. Do you think that’s something that you could do, even though you’re with me?”
“Well, I could try I guess,” I answered looking around the pond setting. “I mean, being out here like this is pretty strange anyway, at least to me; but it is really beautiful here.” I knew that deep within me I wanted more but wasn’t sure what that was, so I added, “But I’m ready.”
He looked at me for a while before saying, “My guess is that it’ll probably get even stranger for you.”
Feeling as though I’d stepped into an alternate world, I wanted to tell him how much his body turned me on, how I liked being out here naked with him, but I was at a complete loss for words, so I could only manage, “Sure, okay, let’s go for it.”
After a look that I couldn’t interpret, his voice took on a new tone, deeper and softer. He started by saying, “Begin to relax, let your arms hang by your side. Like this,” he demonstrated. “Close your eyes now and feel the air and moonlight on your skin. Feel how naked you are; imagine that you’re all alone in the world. Can you feel any of that?” he asked.
Not wanting to appear dense, I assured him that I could, though I had no idea of what he meant. Turning my head slightly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that he was looking upward toward the moon and that in his right hand he held his penis which he had begun lightly rubbing and retracting the foreskin to expose the bulb-like head. I could tell his dick was beginning to rise.
I blurted out with amazement, “Wow, you mean we’re going to jerk off together out here?” I didn’t know what I was feeling at the moment, but there was a big collusion of wonder, excitement, and shock inside me.
“No,” he calmly answered, turning to me with a solemn look on his face, “it’s about getting in touch with your body, learning to give yourself pleasure. It’s not just jacking your prick. I’m aware that you know how to do that.”
I looked down to see that he was now about half-erect and still touching himself. The sight of him standing naked beside me while he touched himself in that manner sent my penis jolting upward like a 4th of July rocket.
Ignoring my erection he said, “Are you sure you want to go on?” Composing myself I gave an affirmative nod.
“The idea of all this is for you to release your reservations and tensions, everything that holds you back, any fear that you’re having. You just stand exposed naked before all of nature.”
He paused while I shook my arms, took several deep breaths, and tried to relax the way he had described. But I remained tense, with my mind screeching odd undecipherable things, and there was definitely nothing relaxed about my cock. .
He went on, “While you’re standing here start pleasuring yourself to begin the feelings. Try to experience a feeling of freedom while you’re doing it. Let the feelings you’re having in your dick flow out through your whole body casting out all inhibitions.”
“Oh,” I answered, still uncertain I grabbed myself down there and began stroking my dick.
Reaching out to touch my arm he said, “No, stop, that’s not what I mean. You’ve going at it wrong. This is about pleasure, not force. Maybe that’s what you’ll do if you want to after a while, but before there are a lot of feelings to enjoy, pleasures that your body can have.” I could feel his eyes on me. I could only respond with, “Oh.”
Though force had always been fine with me, I looked down at my body and then his. My Dad was now fully erect and had his fingertips on his swollen rod. Noticing that I was glancing at him he said, “See what I’m doing?” He lifted his prick upward to show that he was lightly rubbing the underside of his cock head. “Treat yourself the same way, be easy; experience all of the feelings that this can create.”
Growing confused I dropped my hand and said, “I’m not sure of what you mean. That is how I always do it.”
“What a strange situation,” I thought to myself, “I’m playing with myself right in front of my dad.” As peculiar as this felt, I was certain that I enjoyed it.
He hesitated and his voice seemed to tremble slightly when he said, “I’m willing to show you some things, you know,” he hesitated and seemed to be awkwardly searching for words, “so that you can get the idea.” Our eyes met as he whispered so low that I could barely hear the words, “Would it be alright if I touch you down there?”
Stunned by what he had just said, I stood speechless. A roaring began in my ears. I felt my face flash heat. Then he repeated with more emphasis, “Will my touching your penis be okay with you?”
I’m sure that I nodded to signal that was okay, but I still gasped from surprise with the feel of his fingers touching my hard cock. At the same time, with his free hand, he reached around my shoulder and gently pulled me towards him. My skin tingled from the sensation of our bodies slightly touching. I felt his hard cock brush against me leaving a trail of moist spots. My heart pounded wildly in my chest while shivers went across my body.
“You see,” his voice spoke softly, “it’s about allowing yourself good feelings and letting them go all through your body. Don’t be nervous, this is all new to you. What I’m trying to show you is how to get in touch with yourself, with your feelings.”
His fingers lightly played with my swollen, dripping cock head. Pleasing sensations that I’d never had began coursing upward into my body and down my legs like little rivets of electrical charges. I felt myself give way to perceptions of collapsing as my knees grew weaker. With my voice now ragged, I whispered breathlessly, “I can feel that.”
My legs began wobbling as I leaned more into his body. His hand slipped from my shoulder to my waist as he held me against him. With feelings coursing from my balls up to my chest and then down back into my legs, my father continued gently stroking my engorged cock with his free hand.
Streams of pre-cum were pouring from the swollen slit on my cock. I glanced down to see by the moonlight that his hand was shiny from my juice. He laughed, “I’ve forgotten how much you young guys drip.” He looked at me and then lifting his hand up in the light said, “It’s a beautiful thing.” The sticky fluid glistened on his fingers.
Sure that that I could never be shocked by him again, I was proven wrong as he nonchalantly drew his hand to his mouth and began lightly licking my pre-cum from his fingers. With my mouth gaping open I could only mutter, “Dad?”
He only smiled and said, “I helped make you son, I figure that your cum is part mine.”
When he was finished, his lips moist from my juice, he grinned at me as though the most ordinary thing had just happened. He reached down to begin gently stroking my erection whispering, “You taste good.”
His fingers fluttered lightly over my swollen cock. With my heart beating a staccato, I said, “Dad, I don’t know how much of this I can stand without shooting.” My entire body felt alive and was quivering from his touch.
“That’s okay,” he whispered “but try to hold on as long as you can. Let yourself keep enjoying the feelings.” He started caressing my balls. The easy squeezing brought me closer to my limit. Unaware, I reached out to put my hand around his waist. My fingers dug into the glutinous flesh of his buttocks. He either didn’t noticed or didn’t care.
“Oh no,” I cried out while burying my head in his shoulder as I pressed against his body, “I can’t hold it anymore. I’m going to cum.” With that ribbons of white cream shot out of me with a force I hadn’t experienced before. With my legs trembling I fell against him. My lips pressed against his neck while I moaned with each spurt.
Pushing against his body, I felt his hands on my backside. I jerked and humped against him straddling and riding his leg. I felt his hard cock pressing against my stomach and his fingers between the cheeks of my ass. One of his fingers began pressing on my tight butt hole.
Just as abruptly as it had begun, I finished discharging but continued to stand in his embrace while my body shook and my legs trembled uncontrollably. I felt a feathery touch move from my butt cheeks up my back. Overwhelmed by the different sensations I had just experienced, I wanted to remain in his arms, to hide in them. He continued to stand and just hold me. Our stomachs, wet from my semen, pressed together.
“Are you alright Davie?” he eventually whispered softly as he slowly separated us. “Sit down on this big log over here while you relax.” He cautiously guided me to a felled tree near the edge of the stream. I was dizzy, disoriented. My knees shook as I sat down on the log.
As my mind slowly shifted away from my feelings, I became aware of how much the moonlight filled the clearing and how streams of silvery light shown back into the trees. Illusions of different shapes appeared throughout the woods. Anxiety rose in my mind and I asked, “What if someone saw us?”
“So what?” he answered, “So what if someone saw us. Why would you care? They have no more business being here than we do. If they don’t like what they see, they’ll leave. If they like it, let them watch and enjoy.” With that he gave a shrug and a grin.
Looking at the pond I could see shiny ripples as tiny insects danced along the water surface. All around me the dark shapes of the trees appeared to move in harmony with the breeze.
He was squatting in front of me Indian style; his legs open, his cock and balls hanging free. I gradually became more collected and noticed that he was still stimulating himself.
“You sure are big down there, Dad,” I said while staring without any embarrassment at his genitals hanging between his legs.
“You’re not exactly small yourself David, after all, you are my son.” He chuckled to himself. “Besides, I figure it’s how you use it, not how much you use.”
Emboldened by his comment I replied in a stammer, “Will you give me tips on how to use it some day? Would that be okay?”
He hesitated before saying, “I suppose that would be alright.” I knew that was the wrong thing to say, but not why. Once again I felt that I was with someone whom I’d never known before. He was not my dad; he was a mystical priest of the forest that I had accidently encountered out here. I knew that our old relationship had ended forever.
Looking about the pond a nagging question came to my mind. “Have you been out here doing this before with,’ I paused, “with anybody else?”
He laughed then rose upright still fondling his organ. “Usually just myself, but there have been a few occasions,” was his reply. With what seemed like a sigh he continued, “Okay, there have been a few. Unfortunately, most women get uptight being outside like this.” He didn’t offer an elaboration or explanation, so I decided to not ask for one.
“What are you feeling now?” he looked at me, continuing to touch himself. I had remained partially erect while recovering, but watching him had caused my prick to begin throbbing again. “You should share what you’re feeling right now,” he repeated.
“Ok, I guess, it’s all so new,” I said looking downward, unaccustomed to the idea of sharing and baffled by the feelings I was having. “No,” I reconsidered, “I feel good, really great, but it’s all been so different.” Then I looked back up at him and with a sly grin said, “And I’m still horny.” Then added, “So is there anything else you have to show me in this Nature Boy game?”
With a look of surprise, Dad chuckled before answering, “Sure, there are lots of other things I could show you, but this may be all too new for you.” He seemed to be considering something for a few moments before continuing, “I guess it’s alright to give you some more new experiences.” I saw an ironic smile when he said “experiences.”
“Experiences,” I replied, “is what have we’ve been having?” Feeling bolder I stood and stroked my shaft. “What other Nature Boy games can we play?” I said while staring boldly at his hard cock.
“Slow down,” he answered grinning, “now you’re being greedy.” He paused again for a minute before he continued. “I suppose it won’t hurt for us to keep going.” He paused and looked around. Then a slight hesitation appeared in his voice when he added, “This may all may seem like crossing lines for you; but this remains just between us.” He looked as through expecting a reply. I nodded my head affirmative.
At that point he stepped toward me, took my hand and lowered it to his penis. Surprised by the feel of its warmth, I felt a surge through my own. With my touch, his breathing intensified and his chest noticeably heaved. My curiosity elevated knowing I could have this effect on him.
“Are you alright with touching me down there?” he asked quietly through ragged breathing. He waited until I nodded ‘Yes.’
“Do you have any questions about this?” he asked.
I hesitated before saying, “Will you show me what feels good for you the way you just made me feel good?”
“There is something you could do,” he paused then said with emphasis, “but only if you really want to.” I could think of no reply, but continued to rub on his hard cock.
“Move closer and get down on your knees,” he instructed me. When I stepped forward he said, “Squat down now, but take care of the rocks.” I knelt down in front of him; his erection was directly in my vision. I still held my fingers around the swollen pole.
“What you do now is up to you; you have my permission to use me to satisfy any curiosity you may have,” he whispered. The pounding of blood inside my head made him sound distant. “Please yourself,” he continued, “I may suggest some things if you’re okay with that.” Again I my head moved to indicate ‘Yes.’
At first hesitating to proceed, I was certain what I really wanted to do. Leaning my head forward I felt the head of his cock brush against my lips. Dripping pre-cum moistened my lips. I opened my mouth and slowly leaned more. My senses were engulfed and I gasped sharply the instant I felt his cock head enter my mouth.
I pulled back looking at him inquiringly. He only smiled and reached out to lightly finger my hair. “Go ahead, you’re doing fine.”
I leaned forward again and began lapping out at his swollen head. Its strange ripeness exhilarated me. My tongue twined around his shaft and eventually I kissed the dripping tip before encasing it with my lips to gently suck on him. The taste of him filled the cavities in my head. Sensations swirled through me as my breath began coming in uneven gulps. With guttural moans I ravenously took him into my mouth swallowing him as far as I possibly could before gagging.
“Easy now,” he said, “This is all new for you. You have to learn your limits,” he added in a soft voice. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes as I begin moving my mouth back and forth on his cock.
Deep in my mouth once again I felt his head pressing against the back of my throat. This time I relaxed to it.
The night became silent as my hunger grew. There was no breeze and I no longer worried that someone would see us, or what they might think. We seemed in a different world.
I reached around him to began rubbing and kneading his firm but pliant rear. My fingers sought the warm crevice between his cheeks. With a single finger I explored his puckered ass hole, surprised that it became moist as I pushed past the entry.
His knees opened a small bit with the prodding of my finger and I felt him push down as my finger burst through the tight muscle and planted deep within his warm butt insides. The mustiness of him filled my senses.
Down between my legs my own cock throbbed. Even though I had just recently cum I knew that I couldn’t stand this new pleasure very long without shooting again. No more than a few minutes passed when I looked up at him and uttered between gasps, “I’m getting close again.”
Taking my cock in my hand, my right arm and shoulder began moving with piston like tandem. Using my left hand, my middle finger thrust deeper and deeper into him. He squeezed down onto my finger, moving his hips back and forth.
With this new excitement, hot bursts from me began hitting my thigh and in my throat I cried aloud, but the sound was muffled by the engorged prick filling my mouth.
From the increasing pressure from his fingers on my skull and his hard breathing I knew that he was also near climax. Short snorts of air exhaled through his nose as his chest heaved and fell and his hips drove the hard shaft into my mouth. His thrusts became firmer and shorter.
Suddenly, he gave a shudder and his upper body jerked abruptly when, at that instant, a hot, volcanic-like spray shot into my mouth. With awe I knew that my father was ejaculating. In spite of the unfamiliar flavor, I gobbled the fluid down like a starving animal. His butt hole squeezed down hard on my finger.
His moans were soft at first and then became louder as his juice continued in spasms. The salty-sweet taste of him filled my nasal passages; when I swallowed my eyes stung. A sound like the roaring of waves filled my head. . Tears rolled down my face as the taste of him filled me
Slowly the squirting subsided. The motion in my mouth ceased. I quit my vacuum-like sucking, though my face remained pressed into his groin. His wiry hair tickled against my nose; it was wet from sweat and my drool. My erection began to go down and I let my finger, warm from his body, slip from inside him.
With the ebbing of my passion, I became engulfed with a new feeling of gratification. On this night he had lit the dark corners of my mind and enlightened me to my nature. I had no idea how long we stayed there like that, but it seemed timeless.
Eventually, after we both had grown soft, he assisted me to my feet and we stood facing each other as though encountering each other for the first time. Extending his arms, he reached out and pulled me into his embrace. He said nothing but I could feel his heart beating against my own.
A fog was beginning to form on the surface of the pond and subduing the light. We separated and I felt the chill in the air. “It’s gotten colder,” I said, clearing my now raw throat.
“It’s been getting cooler for a while; you just didn’t notice with all the heat you were feeling.” Taking me by the shoulders he leaned close and with concern said, “Is everything we’ve done alright with you David?”
I averted my eyes but smiled and nodded ‘Yes’ while reaching out to stroke his shoulder. With the taste of him still in my mouth, I leaned awkwardly forward and kissed him on the cheek before saying briskly, “Yeah, sure, I’m fine…great.” Though my voice sounded certain; my legs were still trembling. .
We separated and he stepped into the pond, squatting down while he washed his stomach and chest with water. “Your cum is all over me,” he spoke nonchalantly. Looking up toward me he added, “Don’t you need to clean up?”
Following him I plunged into the pond until my body was immersed in the cold water. The shock of cold cleared my senses. Rubbing my stomach I shivered, “It’s gotten really cold in here.” I emerged shaking the dripping water from my body.
After a few minutes of circling back around the pond searching to find our shoes, Dad stopped and said with a laughing tone, “Now for a big piss.” He held his cock as an arching stream shot through the air and down into the pond causing steam to quickly rise from the surface.
I copied him. We playfully slapped the glistening arcs of spray together like children playing with water swords. My piss stream lasted longer and afterward we grinned as we shook our soft penises standing beside each other. “The family that plays together…,” he said, concluding with a hearty roar.
Returning on the path that we had originally taken, I felt the underbrush sweeping against my lower legs and an occasional branch brushing against my side and arms. Clouds crossed the moon as the sky darkened. Looking around the dark woods I felt a sense of elation.
“So Dad,” I spoke out grandly. “Am I now officially a cock-sucker?” I said this with a grin on my face.
Unexpectedly he whirled and glared at me. Placing his hands on both of my shoulders he said abruptly, “Careful how you speak about yourself. You haven’t changed. You’re still you, and that’s all you need to worry about.” With that he turned and continued on the path.
I followed, shocked at the change in his tone. My light mood had vanished.
In what seemed a shorter time out than our journey into the woods, we were back at the fence. I saw the underwear we had left still tossed over the wire. Everything was the same except that it now seemed as though years had passed since we were last here.
“Here we are,” he said. With another shift of his tone he became frivolous, “How was your most excellent adventure?” Dad often made joking references to the title of a movie that we had watched together years before.
Standing grinning in reply, I watched while he grabbed his boxers and bent over to step into them. I said, “Dad.”
“Huh, what is it?” was his reply, as he stood upright to begin pulling on his shorts. He paused with his long, soft cock hanging over the waist band and looked at me expectantly for a few seconds. Unspoken words seemed to fill the moment. Then, with a shift of his hips and continuing to look at me, he slowly pulled his underwear all the way on.
Realizing that he had been waiting for me to say something, I found a verve previously unknown and nervously said aloud, “I love what you did with me back there Dad,” while jerking up my own underwear.
Without warning he grabbed out and pulled me to him. As his arms encircled me I heard a mumbled reply when our lips met. My heart swelled while we stood with our bodies and mouths pressed together, our tongues brushing. His hand pressed against the back of my head as our lips ground together and our breathing mingled.
After a long moment, we separated and silently walked in the darkness the remainder of the way to the house.
Dad is an Exhibitionist, part 1
My cock stood rigid as I paused to look down on the man lying beneath me before settling between his open legs. For one instant it was the sight of another man beneath me that flashed through my mind, and I could still hear the words I said, “Dad, I’m going to give you a fucking that you’ll never forget.”
Looking back over my life so far, I can point to the summer after graduating from high school when I went to live with my father as the origin of my free sexual attitudes. What is more likely, however, is that the seeds had already been sown and my environment only supplied the water and fertilizer.
After graduating from high school in an Atlanta suburb, I went to live with my father in Texas. He had agreed to pay all expenses for me to attend a nearby community college during the school year in exchange for my working in his machine shop during the summer. .
My parents were divorced when I was ten. That was when I had gone back East to live with my extremely religious mother. The stark contrast in how my parents viewed life made their marriage irreconcilable. My father had been raised by hippy parents; her father was a minister. “That heathen” was how my mother often referred to my father.
Their agreement at the divorce was that I would spend four weeks every summer with my father. From my perspective, I never saw anything that I thought was “heathen” from my father; I only thought that summers with Dad were fun. Of course I had not yet moved in with him permanently and had no inkling of the surprises in store for me.
To this day I can clearly remember my shock when, on my first night at his house following my move in, he came out of the bathroom wearing only his boxer shorts then proceeded to remain dressed like that for the rest of the evening.
Not that there was anything wrong with him wearing only his underwear, it was his house. It’s just that I had never seen an adult lounging around who wasn’t either fully clothed or wrapped in a robe. He must have caught the surprised look on my face since his indifferent acknowledgement of his state of dress related to my now living there full-time. He said that this was part of the casual “lifestyle” that he practiced at home when I was away at my mother’s, and this was how he intended to continue now that I was there full time.
I wasn’t certain of what that meant by “lifestyle,” but there was no further discussion. As he sat beside me on the sofa to begin leafing through a magazine, his thighs spread to reveal a large bulge along his left leg and from the fly of his underwear a tangle of dark brown pubic hairs emerged. Though I was attempting to keep my eyes on the television, his open legs seemed to offer an invitation to sneak glances at his crotch.
His boxers were soft cotton and pressing against the fabric was the bulge of his thick cock and balls. He was hanging on the left leg and when he shifted on the couch to bring his right foot to rest on the sofa, the bulge became even more emphasized and the fly opened further letting the mash of tangled hair jut through. Buried in his magazine, he seemed indifferent to me sitting beside him as he lifted his butt and reached down to tug on the fabric bunched against his cock.
Getting another glance at his crotch, my heart accelerated. My own cock was beginning to swell at the sight. Feeling embarrassed and somewhat ashamed of the reaction I was having to my father, I left the sofa and quickly retreated to my room saying that I wanted to go to bed early. I heard him only vaguely mumble, “Good night.”
Once alone in my bed, still fraught with quilt that my father might have sensed my interest in his crotch, I took the shaft of my hardening cock and began masturbating rapidly. Images of naked men from magazines that I had snuck peeks between the pages along with memories of handsome students from my school were now joined by a new image of my father sitting in front of the television with his legs wide spread.
In my imagination, his cock grew hard as my fingers slipped over to touch it. My fantasy expanded to include my hiding unnoticed in the kitchen and watching him engage in pleasuring himself. He pulled down his boxers, pushing them down toward his knees and began making circles with his palm around his engorged purple cock head.
Sprawled back in my bed and with my own legs spread, I rubbed my own swollen shaft, just as I imagined him doing to his. Reaching down with my free hand I grasped my balls and squeezed them. In my mind I saw him grasping his ball sack just as his hand stroked the dripping head of his cock; we were jerking off together.
Caught in these thoughts and unable to resist moaning, I said aloud, “Oh Dad, stroke that big cock of yours, stroke it Dad.” Lost in my fantasy, suddenly strong ribbons of cream began shooting from my rod as I cried aloud, “Fuck, oh fuck!” ending the fantasy. Large globs of sticky semen landed on my belly, pooling around my navel. With my fingers, I began slowly spreading it over my midsection as I fell asleep.
Dad owned a small machine shop in front of the country house where he lived, about a mile outside a medium-sized East Texas town. His property bordered on state parklands that were heavily forested and included streams, ponds, a medium-sized lake, and even rumors of a ghost.
During summer evenings on earlier visits, when my father would return from work, we’d set out together exploring nature. He was a good instructor and spent great care teaching me about the forest and its inhabitants. These times were a refreshing escape to me as I grew into young manhood. They offered a sharp contrast to the strict environment that existed living with my Mother.
My education over those years of summers included more than the flora and the fauna. Suspecting that my Mother and her new husband were reluctant to even hint about sex, my Dad supplied me with appropriate knowledge of reproduction and my own body. He was always unashamed and matter-of-fact with his information, so as the years went by I became a repository of facts about the subject which I freely conveyed to my school chums. Consequently, even though I was shy and could be withdrawn, I soon had a reputation at school of being “experienced” at sex, which I certainly wasn’t. As part of my education, Dad had also emphasized that “self-discovery” for a young man was not only normal but expected, including a few details on what to do. From puberty onward I had practiced a lot.
By the end of that first week of living full-time with him, I had become accustomed to seeing him half-dressed in his boxers. I had even caught an occasional glimpse of his naked body as he moved from our shared bathroom to his bedroom. What I wasn’t accustomed to was the growing thrill of my reaction every time I saw his manly form on display. Alarmed by these reactions, I sought to avoid them by spending most of the time hiding away in my room; even while, at the same time, my father’s body increasingly became the focus of my fantasies.
During day hours, I quickly fell into the routine of work around the shop, beginning mostly with odds and ends related to clean-up and organization. The three other employees, a skinny young blonde man a few years older than me, Hank, and two older Hispanic men, Juan and Rodrigo, soon began treating me as just another co-worker. I was included in all their smutty jokes, their innuendos, and the general hijinks of shop talk. My dad was even noticeably more relaxed than I had remembered him on my previous visits.
When I was still in school, though Dad had been great fun to be with, he had kept a distance between us. From the first day of my arrival that summer, I began noticing other changes, besides his dress around the house. Not only did he curse more and occasionally join in the familiarity of idle shop talk at work; but when we were alone, he treated me less like a boy and more as an equal. Among the changes, he began calling me Dave or David instead of Davie as he had used since I could remember.
Dad was taller and darker than me and had a stocky, muscular frame, as I remained slender. I had reached my full height of just less than six feet, whereas he stood nearly 6 foot 1 inches. I also favored my mother with a reddish complexion, sandy hair and little body hair whereas dad had a fury chest with a trail leading down to his pubic area. I became fascinated by this trail.
My face composed the faired Scandinavian features of my mother’s side rather than the swarthiness of my father’s Italian genes. However, I have his dark brown eyes. In school I had often been teased during showers after gym for my bright bush of reddish orange pubic hair. My senior year I had taken to trimming it down to lessen the effect of what a friend of mine had once called, “an orange bird’s nest.”
Growing accustomed to my father’s new casualness toward me, my attitudes still elevated to shock one Saturday morning when, after rising later than normal, I dressed and went to the kitchen to start coffee. I heard noises from his bedroom.
Coffee started, I returned down the hallway toward the open door of my bedroom when the door to his room across from mine opened and he emerged buck naked and sporting a partial erection. I gasped when my rapid eyes took in details of his swollen cock.
While I stood dumbfounded in the hallway, he casually looked first at me, and then he stretched and yawned before looking down at his himself and muttering, “Morning wood.” Amused at his joke, he padded down the hall to the bathroom, his thick buttocks rolling as he walked.
Stunned, I stood red-faced and immobile. I watched him through the open door way step to the toilet and release a heavy stream of urine. “Damn that feels good,” he said turning toward me, as though he was waiting for me to add some comment. I was speechless.
Thankfully distracted by gurgling from the coffee pot, I scurried back to the kitchen. With lingering images of my father’s engorged cock in my mind, I welcomed the distraction of coffee.
Bracing myself on the kitchen cabinet, I inhaled deeply, willing my heartbeat to slow, and tried to remember which cabinet held the coffee cups. Without fanfare, Dad walked into the kitchen still naked. Even though his cock was now nearly flaccid, from the corner of my eye I caught sight of one the biggest that I’d ever seen. His foreskin stretched down nearly covering the head but stopped short, just exposing the tip of his penis with its slit peering out.
Ignoring me while casually reaching past me to open a cabinet door and take out a cup, my father said, “Didn’t mean to shock you.” He continued talking while pouring himself coffee; “I should have warned you that I spend a lot of time around the house nude, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.” Obviously bemused and grinning he said, “You should have seen the look on your face.” Looking me in the eye, he winked and added, “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”
I stood staring down at the counter top as if I was transfixed by a speck on the laminate.
He then began awkwardly struggling through a rambling explanation of how he practiced nudity during the months while I was living at my Mom’s. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable and not used to explaining himself. His rambling ending with, “So I like living this way. Besides, it’s my house and nobody’s damn business,” his voice rose toward the end when he added, “Hell, society places so many restrictions on us out there,” his hand pointing with contempt toward a window, “I figure a man should get to live in his own home without their damn rules and regulations.”
I supposed that he expected me to agree with him, but with my mind still blank, I could only reach to take a cup from the cabinet. The knot in my throat prevented me from uttering a sound.
Though I wished that he would just shut up, he didn’t. “I guess that’s one of the reasons why your mother and I never got along. She’s so damned up tight,” he added. With a trembling hand, I began pouring coffee for myself and continuing to avert my eyes from him. “Where am I supposed to be looking when he’s naked like this?” I thought. However, an inner voice told me where I wanted to be looking.
“Maybe I should have warned you about how I am, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.” Then he spread his arms and concluded, “So, are you okay with your old man going around the house bare-assed?” Whether intended or not, he switched to a tone sounding vaguely like a threat, “You could always go live back with your mother if it’s not.”
Horrified by the thought of my mother, I uttered a sound that must have sounded like a squeal, “No.” Realizing how that sounded, I lowered my voice and blurted, “I mean sure, its okay, everything’s okay,” and walked to the kitchen table to sit, primarily because of a swelling in my pants. “Shit,” I thought, “He’ll think that I’m some type of pervert.”
“Well,” Dad said as he sat down opposite me, “you’ll get used to me. I guess I don’t think like most people.” Switching subjects abruptly he began idly talking about the day ahead including fishing on the lake that afternoon. I would soon learn that it was typical of him to switch subjects in mid-stream. And typical for me, even though I was nearly nineteen, I still hadn’t learned that conversations could be two-ways and that it was alright to ask for elaboration.
Meanwhile, while appearing to listen, my thoughts were zooming around my head like cars at a go-cart track. “What am I supposed to say here? Why am I circumcised and he’s not? What if somebody comes around and he’s naked?” And, “Did he notice my hard-on?” Then the worst thought of all, “I want to see more, I’m enjoying this.”
Looking back at that morning I realize that was when a door cracked open in me; one that I had been only vaguely aware of. Sure there had been noises behind it, and I had always been suspicious of what was there, but not until that morning did it begin to clarify itself and I finally understood why the girls in school hadn’t interested me.
After breakfast he said it was time to head out and he disappeared into his room to emerge a few minutes later wearing cut-offs and a t-shirt as well as boat shoes. Dressed as he was, though he was in his early 40s, he could have passed for a much younger man. He was a father that I could be proud of. “You ‘bout ready?” he threw my way, and off we went to complete our chores.
Following a trip into town to the grocery store and later a stop at a parts shop where he purchased a few items for the business, we were back at the house. After unloading the purchases, he announced, “Time to go fishing.” Before heading out the door he paused, looked at me and said, “You’re not going out like that, are you? Hell, you look like you’re dressed for school.”
I was wearing what I had been taught by my mother was appropriate weekend casual wear, jeans, polo and very clean sneakers. Though I had shorts, she didn’t like me to wear them and so, I discovered on arriving here, she hadn’t packed any. My swim suit was also back at her house. “Your legs are so white,” she used to complain, as though somehow was my fault.
Well,” I stumbled, “I guess it’s all I brought,” feeling sheepish and gullible for letting her pack for me.
He shook his head and said, as though he was perplexed by me, “You’ve lived with your mother too long. Didn’t you bring any shorts? What happened to the ones you had last summer?” he added.
“Mom said they were too old and ratty and threw them away.”
He rolled his eyes with the mention of my mother, rubbed his chin, and then said, “Let’s see what we can come up with. Come with me,” and we paraded down to his room.
Digging through a couple of drawers he examined a few pair of shorts and cut offs then commenting that everything was too large for me. “You got your slim build from your mom’s side.” He got an idea and went to his closet and after rummaging around a bit, he came out holding an old pair of white nylon running shorts. “These are old but the waist stretches. They’re too small for me and the string is still in them. You can tighten it to fit you.” Tossing them toward me he added, “Put them on,” followed by, “and find an old t-shirt to wear, while I put together a lunch for us.”
I went to my bedroom and quickly changed. Looking at myself in the mirror, I felt exposed in the flimsy white shorts. They were a size too large and, even though they included a net liner, it was loose and I wished that I had a pair of briefs to wear underneath. Between my legs everything felt unprotected and hanging loose. However, since I hadn’t packed my only jock and wore only boxer underwear, there was nothing I could put on to contain my genitals.
I came out of my room to hear him say, “My god your legs are white. You’d better slap on the sun screen or you’ll boil like a lobster.” Once again I felt blamed for something I had no control of. I fantasized saying to the angel in charge of assigning bodies, “Sure, I’d like those white legs, the skinny ones.”
We soon set off with boat in tow for Eagle Lake several miles away at the northern end of the state park. My Dad had a permanent park pass. Waving to the guard as we passed, we were at the lake with the boat in the water in what seemed like no time at all. After we had cast off, Dad mentioned a cove about half a mile from the landing where he preferred to fish at that time of day. Soon we pulled into the isolated cove, anchored and killed the engine.
After saying “Let’s get ready to fish,” he stood in the boat and, without ceremony, unsnapped and dropped his cut offs, revealing that he was wearing an old pair of yellow Speedos underneath. The elastic around the legs was frayed and fit loosely. This wasn’t how he had dressed when we went fishing on my previous visits.
Looking at his bulging crotch, I thought of how my cock and balls were dangling unconfined between my own legs. He quickly doffed his t-shirt, sat down with his back toward me and said, “Put some sunscreen on my back, will you. It’s in that bag,” he said motioning toward a small bag he had brought.
While pretending to pay attention to him chatting away about when and where fish bite, I poured an amount of lotion in my palm and began rubbing it over his shoulders. The act felt strange and more familiar than anything I had ever experienced with my father. I was starting to feel a flush over my face. Privately I was also trying to ignore the small thrill that was beginning to build in my stomach as I touched him.
His back was broad and muscular. When he sat on the plank the skimpy suit pulled downwards revealing the upper half of his butt crack. A light dusting of fur covered his rear. My eyes feasted with the sight while my mind rebelled at what I was doing.
Once I’d finished I handed him the lotion and he stood facing away from me to begin spreading oil over his chest, arms, and while bending forward, the front and back of his legs. I took in the view of his full, firm butt cheeks straining against the yellow nylon. A view of his ass crack was clear through the thin fabric. “Whew,” I thought relishing in the view.
When he’d finished he tossed me the sunscreen with instructions to “rub it in good and heavy everywhere.” Then he sat down facing me and began to rummage through his tackle box preparing our rods and lines. While I rubbed my face I snuck peaks at him sitting in front of me.
With his legs splayed open, the bulge between them strained against the thin yellow suit. The matting of hair on his groin created a dark smear under the thin fabric. The suite obviously had no inner lining. “Had he cut it out?” I thought. Sticking out from the frayed leg openings were dark, curly pubic hairs and a protrusion of skin from his ball sack. His Speedo was not only old but too small.
Engrossed in the view between my Father’s legs, I was grateful that the shorts he’d given me were too big since I was having trouble keeping down an erection. I was relieved when he instructed me to turn around so that he could rub lotion over my back and neck.
Dad didn’t seem to notice my predicament and, while he rubbed, was absorbed in an explanation of casting in this part of the lake. With a burning face, I was more concerned with keeping my legs together to hide what was happening between them. Finally we cast our lines and I was grateful to focus on something else; even though it was taking considerable effort.
At one point in the afternoon, Dad looked around and said, “Looks like nobody is around here.” True, only a few boats had come in our cove, but quickly left for other fishing spots. Standing carefully in the boat he pulled down the front of the Speedo, tucked it under his testicles, and took hold of his cock then began pissing over the boat edge into the lake. He looked at me and chatted away as though nothing was happening; I supposed that in his mind it was no big deal. However, judging from the swelling between my legs, it was a very big deal to me.
When he asked, “Don’t you need to piss?” I felt the skin of my face flush. Shaking my head “no,” I quickly closed my knees to conceal the rising. He was soon back fishing away; apparently he was oblivious to the reactions his exposure was causing me.
The afternoon passed by slowly and, to my relief, there were no more “sightings”. The fish weren’t biting well and the small lake bass that we did catch was returned to the water. Eventually Dad reeled in one suitable for eating. “This’ll fry up real fine,” he commented. Then he announced, “That’s enough for today.”
As late afternoon shadows crept over the lake we returned to the landing, loaded the boat, and headed home. Back at home Dad stripped to his Speedos again to begin gutting and cleaning the fish in preparation for the fry pan. I busied myself about the kitchen trying to help, though did change back into jeans after making the comment that the shorts “weren’t comfortable.” He replied that he would buy me something more suitable and the subject was dropped.
Later that evening I rose to go to my room before bed. He asked that I wait a minute because there was something that he wanted to talk to me about. Approaching where I stood, he placed his hands on his hips and gave me a look that over the years I had come to dread. It said, “I know what’s going on here and you’re going to have to ‘fess up.”
“There’s something I want to bring up with you Dave.”
That sounded ominous to me. I looked down to escape his gaze but only encountered the bulging package of the Speedo.
With disbelief I heard him blurt out, “Quit being so damned embarrassed about getting a boner. We all get them over something. They’re normal.”
“Crap,” I thought staring past the Speedo to the floor, he’d noticed all along. Was he suspicious about me?
“Don’t worry about trying to hide it when it’s just us. What turns you on is your business. You’re young and you’ve got a lot of experimenting ahead of you.”
I looked back at him startled by what he said next, “What are you going to do if you come home some night and I’m sitting on the couch jacking and watching porn? Are you going to make me feel all guilty?”
Dumfounded at the idea, I could only slowly shake my head ‘no,’ my mouth gapping open.
“Just don’t freak out on me if that happens.” Then, just as directly as he had begun, he said, “I’m tired, we can talk about this another time.” Casually patting me on the shoulder he said, “Good night, son,” effectively ending any more conversation. He went to his room and closed the door.
I stood flabbergasted by this man but intrigued at the prospect of what he had just described. But before sleep could take me, I again became caught up in a melee of memories from earlier years, of times with friends exploring our bodies, of the one time I’d spent with a girl that I had dated when she let me “cop a feel.” But now included in the usual mix were vivid thoughts of my father in and out of his Speedos. I imagined seeing his swollen cock, and even touching it. Now with a hard rod standing between my legs, I took hold of myself and stroked until hot spurts splashed over my stomach and freed me to sleep.
I woke early the next day in another state of arousal. Lying on my stomach, I began pressing my hips down on the mattress until the discomfort of a full bladder became more immediate than feelings of pleasure.
Out of bed and on my feet, I paused before opening the door to consider if I should put on my pants before going to the bathroom. I didn’t hear my dad about so I thought, “What the fuck, when in Rome….”
As I stepped from the room I was startled by the sound and sight of the door to my father’s room opening and him stepping into the hallway completely naked with a hard cock to match my own, except his was thicker. We both froze, just staring at each other. He broke the awkward moment with a slight smile, “Looks like we’ve both got a situation.” Then he added while motioning me toward the bathroom, “You go ahead.”
Lowering my head in embarrassment I quickly stepped into the room, reaching to close the door behind me. His hand stopped the closing as he came in saying, “No way, buddy, I’ve got to go, too.”
Stepping beside me at the toilet, his hip nudged me over to make room for him and he pressed down on his erection to release a hard flow of urine splashing into the bowl. I tried looking elsewhere but felt my face reddening as he said laughingly, “It’s a bitch trying to piss with a hard-on, isn’t it?”
As his stream began to slow, he asked, while looking directly downward at my crotch, “I’m curious as to why you trim your pubes down there? What’s with that?” He said this nonchalantly as he shook his cock, and with his fingers squeezed out the last drop, “Is it something you younger guys are doing now?”
After much internal squeezing of my own, my bladder finally had let go even though the flow was thinned by the pressure needed to keep my dick pointing downward. Mumbling I responded with “I guess.”
He finished pissing and stepped back while continuing to look at my body, “I dated a chick once who shaved her pussy…”
“Dad,” I nearly yelled, “Quit looking at me so I can piss!”
Chuckling out loud he patted me on my butt cheek as he passed behind me. ”Sorry, I forget that you’re so damn modest.”
I still had a raging erection, despite finishing my piss, and it sprang upward as I turned to the sink. After rinsing my hands I splashed cool water on my face in an effort to quell my reddening. Even through my embarrassment, all of this weirdness gave me a feeling of pleasure.
I left the bathroom still sporting wood to find him waiting for me in the hallway leaning against the wall sipping on his coffee.
“We need to talk about this Dave,” he began. I suppressed an urge to cover myself but thought, “What the hell, since he he’s so damn uninhibited let him see it.” A small charge trilled through my stomach.
“In my opinion,” he began and I could tell that a speech was coming, “your mother and her freaky ways did a lot more harm to you than any behavior of mine ever could.”
Looking down at his own body, with his thick penis now hanging soft, he said, “If my going around this way embarrasses you, I’m sorry. But in the long run, your ability to accept other people just the way they are means a lot more to me than all of this modesty you’ve picked up from her.” With a conspicuous glare he said, “Regardless of what life style you chose for yourself, it needs to be out of your choice or preference instead of somebody else’s hang ups,” he finished with an attitude of having spoken something profound.
I thought to myself, “Nero before the Senate couldn’t have done better.” Out of a sudden impulse I blurted out without thinking, “Good, let’s just hang a sign out front saying ‘Nudist Colony Inside.’” With this outburst I felt the pressure release and my erect penis begin to withdraw.
He flinched with surprise and laughed out loud. “Great idea, you want to help me make one? It might be fun to see who shows up.” Then he got serious and began an explanation.
“David, I grew up with four brothers, as you know, and we all shared one bedroom. From my earliest memories, there was no privacy between us. As soon as one of us hit puberty the subject in our room was sex, sex, and more sex. We compared our dicks, measured our erections, hell we jerked off together. There was nothing sacred or private.” Looking at me sympathetically he continued, “I realize that’s not what you’ve been used to, but I don’t think this openness does any harm. If it does, I’m sorry.”
Grateful for my erection subsiding, I decided to get honest. “Ok,” I spouted, “Since we’re now going to be so open, I’ve been wondering how come you’re not circumcised,” I pointed downward towards his cock, “and I am?” It excited me to be so bold and to focus attention on his penis.
Looking down, he grabbed his foreskin and pulled his cock downward and out.
“He sure likes grabbing his dick,” I thought.
“You mean this? Shit, that was your mother again. She thought that everything about a man’s prick was dirty. If she could have had yours cut off I think she would have.” He shrugged, “I don’t know why she cared. She’s barely touched one in her life.” He said this all the while continuing to stretch out his long foreskin.
The sight of this brought me swelling upward again. “Shit,” I thought to myself, “how can I stop this?”
Laughing and pointing down at me, he said “We’d better talk about this some other time. You’re boning up again.” I began to blush again. With a grin he continued, “If we have to wait for you to rub one off we’ll never get there.”
Turning to enter his room he paused to casually throw out, “Maybe I shouldn’t point this out, but you do get pretty loud when you play with yourself in there, you know.”
Startled by his comment, I snapped back; “What the fuck? That was uncalled for.”
“Hey, don’t get bent out of shape, I’m just teasing. I don’t care what you do in your bed,” he added with a wink and a light punch my shoulder. Turning back into his room he continued with a big grin, “Besides, I can get pretty loud myself. Like father like son, I guess,” he flippantly threw off while opening a drawer to reach for his underwear.
My face was steaming when I entered my room and quickly closed the door. I looked down to see my dick sticking straight up and thought, “And he thinks that my mother is weird.” At the same time I was unable to suppress the excitement in my belly. Being naked with my father had been not only embarrassing but thrilling at the same time. I dressed reluctantly wishing we could stay naked together all day.
Our visit at my grand parents hurried by, and after a great lunch, Dad and I spent the afternoon engaged in cleaning their yard, doing some minor repairs around their house, and tuning my grandfather’s car. Near sunset my grandmother arrived with a box of leftovers and announced that we should be heading back before it got dark.
We said our goodbyes and went on our way. Our conversation during the day and on the drive back was minimal and only about general things, though I was anxious to return to the subject of that morning and being naked together. I was filled with loads of questions, though wasn’t sure if I could get them answered, or which might tick him off. Looking at his profile while he drove I took in how handsome he was. I also thought, “What a strange man my father is. How different he is from me.”
Once at home, famished after the day of work, we both dove into our dinners. I longed to renew the feelings of intimacy that I had felt that morning with my father.
“Man, do I feel dirty,” I announced after finishing my supper. “I guess I’ll take a shower once I’ve finished here,” I added in hopes that he would pick up the thread.
“Go ahead,” he replied, “if you want to.”
I was disappointed by his indifference and fumbled for a way to proceed. In my head I’d already fantasized that he might join me in the shower, although I had no idea of the implications.
Dad finished up his own dinner and, on his way to the sink with his plate, said “Okay, since you want to clean up I have an idea.” Looking me directly in my face he asked, “Are you up for a little nocturnal adventure?”
I assured him that I was and he responded that he was thinking about showing me something different to do at night around here.
I asked “What’s that?” but he only replied, “You’ll see.”
After cleaning the table he then started undressing right in our kitchen. Pointing toward me, he said “Strip down to your skivvies and shoes; the ground will be rough where we’re going.”
On the command of “Strip,” I quickly undressed, excited by the prospects of what might be ahead. With no further explanation he headed out the back door followed by me; a tent now beginning to show in my boxers. After this morning’s talk, I was feeling less inhibited about getting an erection with him around, even excited by it.
Looking backward he said, “Follow me.” He added while pointing upward, “There’s a full moon tonight, so we won’t have any trouble finding our way.” He strode purposefully with me in pursuit across the one hundred or so yards to the back of his property where the state preserve began. Stopping at the border of barbed wire fencing, he pressed down on the bottom strand, lifted the one above and said, “Careful when you climb through.”
I stooped to climb between the wires and then held them apart while he followed. Once through the fence, he stopped and said, “We’ll leave these here.” He pulled down his boxers, stepped out of them, and tossed them on a fence post in one smooth and apparently experienced motion. Noticing my hesitation he said, “Don’t get all silly on me, we’ll go naked from here on.” I followed through with some apprehension. Our exertion had caused my latest erection to subside.
“What if we get caught,” I thought, but figured I’d better keep that to myself, hoping he knew what he was doing.
Walking ahead into the dark woods he followed a path that seemed familiar to him. As we passed in and out of shadows, dapples of silvery moon light revealed his naked form in front of me. My eyes took in his broad frame with its slightly thickened waist, but mainly I fixated on the taunt round butt cheeks that rolled as he walked. I was tempted to grab one. With the thought of touching him, warm sensations filled my loins and my penis became heavier, starting to swing side to side and hitting against my legs while I walked.
I asked where we were going, but he only replied, “You’ll see.”
“Are you sure there’s nobody in here?” I queried in a hushed tone.
“Nah, the park closes at night,” he replied.
“But aren’t there guards?” I replied, my concern increasing as we got deeper into the park. I had fears of being caught, but chided myself. I sounded like my mother with her multitudes of anxieties.
“Hell no,” he answered. “The state can’t afford any. I figure that anybody else who’s in here has their own reasons, same as us.”
“What are our reasons?” I wondered. I was still having trouble getting my mind around my walking around the woods naked with my dad. “Maybe this is a dream,” I mused, but quickly dismissed that. I did have to admit that, though still nervous, I was starting to really enjoy the experience.
After perhaps a half-mile on the winding path, I saw ahead of us what appeared to be a bright clearing in the woods. Follow his lead; I stepped through a cluster of dense brush into an opening that revealed a pond, perhaps a hundred feet across.
“This is it,” he said as I came up beside him. “Its spring fed and flows into that small creek over there,” he said pointing. “It’s five or six feet deep in the middle. I figured it would be more fun to clean up here than at home.” He added, “I come out here a lot.” He grinned at me as though to say, “I told you so.” After slipping out of his shoes he stepped into the water’s edge to a bottom that quickly went downward. He was soon up to his shoulders in the water.
I stepped out of my sneakers and, after a few tentative steps, was beside him in the cold water. “Brr,” I chattered, “this is cold.” My feelings of apprehension left me with the jolt of cold water.
“Yeah, it’s from an underground spring,” he replied, slowing paddling his arms backward.
As we lazily floated around the pond, I began to relax more to the experience of being out here with my father naked in the moonlight. Our legs brushed a few times causing a surge of warmth inside of me.
Though the water was bright from the moonlight, the pond, surrounded by walls of loblolly pines, oaks and box elders, seemed to be a secret, shadowy place. I imagined that this might have been a place of an ancient initiation ceremony. Perhaps the native Indians had used it for that.
I stood on the stony bottom leading upward to the creek. Bending forward and using my hands I scampered up the shallow side that carried overflow from the pond. “It’s rocky here,” I said back to my father.
“Yeah,” he replied, “be careful with your feet.” Soon he also emerged from the pond and I extended my hand to help him step up. We stood naked together in the creek bed while water trickled down our bodies.
“This creek eventually peters out,” he said. “I think that the water eventually absorbs back into the aquifer below here.”
“How often do you come out here?” I asked, acutely sensitive to the feeling of standing naked with my Father; our bodies were nearly touching. I felt an upsurge of affection for this bohemian man.
“I come out here some,” was his reply. Laughing to himself he said self consciously, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I come out here to play a game I call Nature Boy.”
“Nature Boy,” I asked curiously, “what is that?”
“It’s just a game I play in my mind,” he replied. “It helps me shake off my worries, any that I may be having over business or anything else. It reminds me of why I love living out here in the country.”
I realized at that moment that I truly had no idea of who this man was, until now I’d only seen him before as “Dad.” Looking at him standing there it felt like I was meeting him for the first time. The thought made me uneasy, but at the same time I couldn’t deny the erotic thrill that I was having.
“What’s this Nature Boy thing?” I persisted. “You said that it’s a game?”
“I shouldn’t have said that it’s a game,” he replied looking around. “It’s more a state of mind, I’d guess.” He hesitated before then turning to me and saying, “If you really want to know I suppose that I could teach you.”
Now curious, I said, “Sure, why not?”
He continued sternly, “I’ll warn you; it’s something that we’ve never done before,” then a short pause before ending with “at least not together.” He added with a wry look, “And we both know that you get embarrassed pretty damn easily.”
Not sure of what I was getting into I decided to go along, “Sure, I mean I’m game for anything,” and added, “I’ll try not to be embarrassed.”
“Just remember that you’re the one asking here,” he said, sounding like it was a warning. He took a deep breath and began talking to me softly.
“To play Nature Boy, you have to just empty your mind,” he said. “Those rules and restrictions about modesty that you’ve been given in your life, your inhibitions, you just let them go. Do you think that’s something that you could do, even though you’re with me?”
“Well, I could try I guess,” I answered looking around the pond setting. “I mean, being out here like this is pretty strange anyway, at least to me; but it is really beautiful here.” I knew that deep within me I wanted more but wasn’t sure what that was, so I added, “But I’m ready.”
He looked at me for a while before saying, “My guess is that it’ll probably get even stranger for you.”
Feeling as though I’d stepped into an alternate world, I wanted to tell him how much his body turned me on, how I liked being out here naked with him, but I was at a complete loss for words, so I could only manage, “Sure, okay, let’s go for it.”
After a look that I couldn’t interpret, his voice took on a new tone, deeper and softer. He started by saying, “Begin to relax, let your arms hang by your side. Like this,” he demonstrated. “Close your eyes now and feel the air and moonlight on your skin. Feel how naked you are; imagine that you’re all alone in the world. Can you feel any of that?” he asked.
Not wanting to appear dense, I assured him that I could, though I had no idea of what he meant. Turning my head slightly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that he was looking upward toward the moon and that in his right hand he held his penis which he had begun lightly rubbing and retracting the foreskin to expose the bulb-like head. I could tell his dick was beginning to rise.
I blurted out with amazement, “Wow, you mean we’re going to jerk off together out here?” I didn’t know what I was feeling at the moment, but there was a big collusion of wonder, excitement, and shock inside me.
“No,” he calmly answered, turning to me with a solemn look on his face, “it’s about getting in touch with your body, learning to give yourself pleasure. It’s not just jacking your prick. I’m aware that you know how to do that.”
I looked down to see that he was now about half-erect and still touching himself. The sight of him standing naked beside me while he touched himself in that manner sent my penis jolting upward like a 4th of July rocket.
Ignoring my erection he said, “Are you sure you want to go on?” Composing myself I gave an affirmative nod.
“The idea of all this is for you to release your reservations and tensions, everything that holds you back, any fear that you’re having. You just stand exposed naked before all of nature.”
He paused while I shook my arms, took several deep breaths, and tried to relax the way he had described. But I remained tense, with my mind screeching odd undecipherable things, and there was definitely nothing relaxed about my cock. .
He went on, “While you’re standing here start pleasuring yourself to begin the feelings. Try to experience a feeling of freedom while you’re doing it. Let the feelings you’re having in your dick flow out through your whole body casting out all inhibitions.”
“Oh,” I answered, still uncertain I grabbed myself down there and began stroking my dick.
Reaching out to touch my arm he said, “No, stop, that’s not what I mean. You’ve going at it wrong. This is about pleasure, not force. Maybe that’s what you’ll do if you want to after a while, but before there are a lot of feelings to enjoy, pleasures that your body can have.” I could feel his eyes on me. I could only respond with, “Oh.”
Though force had always been fine with me, I looked down at my body and then his. My Dad was now fully erect and had his fingertips on his swollen rod. Noticing that I was glancing at him he said, “See what I’m doing?” He lifted his prick upward to show that he was lightly rubbing the underside of his cock head. “Treat yourself the same way, be easy; experience all of the feelings that this can create.”
Growing confused I dropped my hand and said, “I’m not sure of what you mean. That is how I always do it.”
“What a strange situation,” I thought to myself, “I’m playing with myself right in front of my dad.” As peculiar as this felt, I was certain that I enjoyed it.
He hesitated and his voice seemed to tremble slightly when he said, “I’m willing to show you some things, you know,” he hesitated and seemed to be awkwardly searching for words, “so that you can get the idea.” Our eyes met as he whispered so low that I could barely hear the words, “Would it be alright if I touch you down there?”
Stunned by what he had just said, I stood speechless. A roaring began in my ears. I felt my face flash heat. Then he repeated with more emphasis, “Will my touching your penis be okay with you?”
I’m sure that I nodded to signal that was okay, but I still gasped from surprise with the feel of his fingers touching my hard cock. At the same time, with his free hand, he reached around my shoulder and gently pulled me towards him. My skin tingled from the sensation of our bodies slightly touching. I felt his hard cock brush against me leaving a trail of moist spots. My heart pounded wildly in my chest while shivers went across my body.
“You see,” his voice spoke softly, “it’s about allowing yourself good feelings and letting them go all through your body. Don’t be nervous, this is all new to you. What I’m trying to show you is how to get in touch with yourself, with your feelings.”
His fingers lightly played with my swollen, dripping cock head. Pleasing sensations that I’d never had began coursing upward into my body and down my legs like little rivets of electrical charges. I felt myself give way to perceptions of collapsing as my knees grew weaker. With my voice now ragged, I whispered breathlessly, “I can feel that.”
My legs began wobbling as I leaned more into his body. His hand slipped from my shoulder to my waist as he held me against him. With feelings coursing from my balls up to my chest and then down back into my legs, my father continued gently stroking my engorged cock with his free hand.
Streams of pre-cum were pouring from the swollen slit on my cock. I glanced down to see by the moonlight that his hand was shiny from my juice. He laughed, “I’ve forgotten how much you young guys drip.” He looked at me and then lifting his hand up in the light said, “It’s a beautiful thing.” The sticky fluid glistened on his fingers.
Sure that that I could never be shocked by him again, I was proven wrong as he nonchalantly drew his hand to his mouth and began lightly licking my pre-cum from his fingers. With my mouth gaping open I could only mutter, “Dad?”
He only smiled and said, “I helped make you son, I figure that your cum is part mine.”
When he was finished, his lips moist from my juice, he grinned at me as though the most ordinary thing had just happened. He reached down to begin gently stroking my erection whispering, “You taste good.”
His fingers fluttered lightly over my swollen cock. With my heart beating a staccato, I said, “Dad, I don’t know how much of this I can stand without shooting.” My entire body felt alive and was quivering from his touch.
“That’s okay,” he whispered “but try to hold on as long as you can. Let yourself keep enjoying the feelings.” He started caressing my balls. The easy squeezing brought me closer to my limit. Unaware, I reached out to put my hand around his waist. My fingers dug into the glutinous flesh of his buttocks. He either didn’t noticed or didn’t care.
“Oh no,” I cried out while burying my head in his shoulder as I pressed against his body, “I can’t hold it anymore. I’m going to cum.” With that ribbons of white cream shot out of me with a force I hadn’t experienced before. With my legs trembling I fell against him. My lips pressed against his neck while I moaned with each spurt.
Pushing against his body, I felt his hands on my backside. I jerked and humped against him straddling and riding his leg. I felt his hard cock pressing against my stomach and his fingers between the cheeks of my ass. One of his fingers began pressing on my tight butt hole.
Just as abruptly as it had begun, I finished discharging but continued to stand in his embrace while my body shook and my legs trembled uncontrollably. I felt a feathery touch move from my butt cheeks up my back. Overwhelmed by the different sensations I had just experienced, I wanted to remain in his arms, to hide in them. He continued to stand and just hold me. Our stomachs, wet from my semen, pressed together.
“Are you alright Davie?” he eventually whispered softly as he slowly separated us. “Sit down on this big log over here while you relax.” He cautiously guided me to a felled tree near the edge of the stream. I was dizzy, disoriented. My knees shook as I sat down on the log.
As my mind slowly shifted away from my feelings, I became aware of how much the moonlight filled the clearing and how streams of silvery light shown back into the trees. Illusions of different shapes appeared throughout the woods. Anxiety rose in my mind and I asked, “What if someone saw us?”
“So what?” he answered, “So what if someone saw us. Why would you care? They have no more business being here than we do. If they don’t like what they see, they’ll leave. If they like it, let them watch and enjoy.” With that he gave a shrug and a grin.
Looking at the pond I could see shiny ripples as tiny insects danced along the water surface. All around me the dark shapes of the trees appeared to move in harmony with the breeze.
He was squatting in front of me Indian style; his legs open, his cock and balls hanging free. I gradually became more collected and noticed that he was still stimulating himself.
“You sure are big down there, Dad,” I said while staring without any embarrassment at his genitals hanging between his legs.
“You’re not exactly small yourself David, after all, you are my son.” He chuckled to himself. “Besides, I figure it’s how you use it, not how much you use.”
Emboldened by his comment I replied in a stammer, “Will you give me tips on how to use it some day? Would that be okay?”
He hesitated before saying, “I suppose that would be alright.” I knew that was the wrong thing to say, but not why. Once again I felt that I was with someone whom I’d never known before. He was not my dad; he was a mystical priest of the forest that I had accidently encountered out here. I knew that our old relationship had ended forever.
Looking about the pond a nagging question came to my mind. “Have you been out here doing this before with,’ I paused, “with anybody else?”
He laughed then rose upright still fondling his organ. “Usually just myself, but there have been a few occasions,” was his reply. With what seemed like a sigh he continued, “Okay, there have been a few. Unfortunately, most women get uptight being outside like this.” He didn’t offer an elaboration or explanation, so I decided to not ask for one.
“What are you feeling now?” he looked at me, continuing to touch himself. I had remained partially erect while recovering, but watching him had caused my prick to begin throbbing again. “You should share what you’re feeling right now,” he repeated.
“Ok, I guess, it’s all so new,” I said looking downward, unaccustomed to the idea of sharing and baffled by the feelings I was having. “No,” I reconsidered, “I feel good, really great, but it’s all been so different.” Then I looked back up at him and with a sly grin said, “And I’m still horny.” Then added, “So is there anything else you have to show me in this Nature Boy game?”
With a look of surprise, Dad chuckled before answering, “Sure, there are lots of other things I could show you, but this may be all too new for you.” He seemed to be considering something for a few moments before continuing, “I guess it’s alright to give you some more new experiences.” I saw an ironic smile when he said “experiences.”
“Experiences,” I replied, “is what have we’ve been having?” Feeling bolder I stood and stroked my shaft. “What other Nature Boy games can we play?” I said while staring boldly at his hard cock.
“Slow down,” he answered grinning, “now you’re being greedy.” He paused again for a minute before he continued. “I suppose it won’t hurt for us to keep going.” He paused and looked around. Then a slight hesitation appeared in his voice when he added, “This may all may seem like crossing lines for you; but this remains just between us.” He looked as through expecting a reply. I nodded my head affirmative.
At that point he stepped toward me, took my hand and lowered it to his penis. Surprised by the feel of its warmth, I felt a surge through my own. With my touch, his breathing intensified and his chest noticeably heaved. My curiosity elevated knowing I could have this effect on him.
“Are you alright with touching me down there?” he asked quietly through ragged breathing. He waited until I nodded ‘Yes.’
“Do you have any questions about this?” he asked.
I hesitated before saying, “Will you show me what feels good for you the way you just made me feel good?”
“There is something you could do,” he paused then said with emphasis, “but only if you really want to.” I could think of no reply, but continued to rub on his hard cock.
“Move closer and get down on your knees,” he instructed me. When I stepped forward he said, “Squat down now, but take care of the rocks.” I knelt down in front of him; his erection was directly in my vision. I still held my fingers around the swollen pole.
“What you do now is up to you; you have my permission to use me to satisfy any curiosity you may have,” he whispered. The pounding of blood inside my head made him sound distant. “Please yourself,” he continued, “I may suggest some things if you’re okay with that.” Again I my head moved to indicate ‘Yes.’
At first hesitating to proceed, I was certain what I really wanted to do. Leaning my head forward I felt the head of his cock brush against my lips. Dripping pre-cum moistened my lips. I opened my mouth and slowly leaned more. My senses were engulfed and I gasped sharply the instant I felt his cock head enter my mouth.
I pulled back looking at him inquiringly. He only smiled and reached out to lightly finger my hair. “Go ahead, you’re doing fine.”
I leaned forward again and began lapping out at his swollen head. Its strange ripeness exhilarated me. My tongue twined around his shaft and eventually I kissed the dripping tip before encasing it with my lips to gently suck on him. The taste of him filled the cavities in my head. Sensations swirled through me as my breath began coming in uneven gulps. With guttural moans I ravenously took him into my mouth swallowing him as far as I possibly could before gagging.
“Easy now,” he said, “This is all new for you. You have to learn your limits,” he added in a soft voice. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes as I begin moving my mouth back and forth on his cock.
Deep in my mouth once again I felt his head pressing against the back of my throat. This time I relaxed to it.
The night became silent as my hunger grew. There was no breeze and I no longer worried that someone would see us, or what they might think. We seemed in a different world.
I reached around him to began rubbing and kneading his firm but pliant rear. My fingers sought the warm crevice between his cheeks. With a single finger I explored his puckered ass hole, surprised that it became moist as I pushed past the entry.
His knees opened a small bit with the prodding of my finger and I felt him push down as my finger burst through the tight muscle and planted deep within his warm butt insides. The mustiness of him filled my senses.
Down between my legs my own cock throbbed. Even though I had just recently cum I knew that I couldn’t stand this new pleasure very long without shooting again. No more than a few minutes passed when I looked up at him and uttered between gasps, “I’m getting close again.”
Taking my cock in my hand, my right arm and shoulder began moving with piston like tandem. Using my left hand, my middle finger thrust deeper and deeper into him. He squeezed down onto my finger, moving his hips back and forth.
With this new excitement, hot bursts from me began hitting my thigh and in my throat I cried aloud, but the sound was muffled by the engorged prick filling my mouth.
From the increasing pressure from his fingers on my skull and his hard breathing I knew that he was also near climax. Short snorts of air exhaled through his nose as his chest heaved and fell and his hips drove the hard shaft into my mouth. His thrusts became firmer and shorter.
Suddenly, he gave a shudder and his upper body jerked abruptly when, at that instant, a hot, volcanic-like spray shot into my mouth. With awe I knew that my father was ejaculating. In spite of the unfamiliar flavor, I gobbled the fluid down like a starving animal. His butt hole squeezed down hard on my finger.
His moans were soft at first and then became louder as his juice continued in spasms. The salty-sweet taste of him filled my nasal passages; when I swallowed my eyes stung. A sound like the roaring of waves filled my head. . Tears rolled down my face as the taste of him filled me
Slowly the squirting subsided. The motion in my mouth ceased. I quit my vacuum-like sucking, though my face remained pressed into his groin. His wiry hair tickled against my nose; it was wet from sweat and my drool. My erection began to go down and I let my finger, warm from his body, slip from inside him.
With the ebbing of my passion, I became engulfed with a new feeling of gratification. On this night he had lit the dark corners of my mind and enlightened me to my nature. I had no idea how long we stayed there like that, but it seemed timeless.
Eventually, after we both had grown soft, he assisted me to my feet and we stood facing each other as though encountering each other for the first time. Extending his arms, he reached out and pulled me into his embrace. He said nothing but I could feel his heart beating against my own.
A fog was beginning to form on the surface of the pond and subduing the light. We separated and I felt the chill in the air. “It’s gotten colder,” I said, clearing my now raw throat.
“It’s been getting cooler for a while; you just didn’t notice with all the heat you were feeling.” Taking me by the shoulders he leaned close and with concern said, “Is everything we’ve done alright with you David?”
I averted my eyes but smiled and nodded ‘Yes’ while reaching out to stroke his shoulder. With the taste of him still in my mouth, I leaned awkwardly forward and kissed him on the cheek before saying briskly, “Yeah, sure, I’m fine…great.” Though my voice sounded certain; my legs were still trembling. .
We separated and he stepped into the pond, squatting down while he washed his stomach and chest with water. “Your cum is all over me,” he spoke nonchalantly. Looking up toward me he added, “Don’t you need to clean up?”
Following him I plunged into the pond until my body was immersed in the cold water. The shock of cold cleared my senses. Rubbing my stomach I shivered, “It’s gotten really cold in here.” I emerged shaking the dripping water from my body.
After a few minutes of circling back around the pond searching to find our shoes, Dad stopped and said with a laughing tone, “Now for a big piss.” He held his cock as an arching stream shot through the air and down into the pond causing steam to quickly rise from the surface.
I copied him. We playfully slapped the glistening arcs of spray together like children playing with water swords. My piss stream lasted longer and afterward we grinned as we shook our soft penises standing beside each other. “The family that plays together…,” he said, concluding with a hearty roar.
Returning on the path that we had originally taken, I felt the underbrush sweeping against my lower legs and an occasional branch brushing against my side and arms. Clouds crossed the moon as the sky darkened. Looking around the dark woods I felt a sense of elation.
“So Dad,” I spoke out grandly. “Am I now officially a cock-sucker?” I said this with a grin on my face.
Unexpectedly he whirled and glared at me. Placing his hands on both of my shoulders he said abruptly, “Careful how you speak about yourself. You haven’t changed. You’re still you, and that’s all you need to worry about.” With that he turned and continued on the path.
I followed, shocked at the change in his tone. My light mood had vanished.
In what seemed a shorter time out than our journey into the woods, we were back at the fence. I saw the underwear we had left still tossed over the wire. Everything was the same except that it now seemed as though years had passed since we were last here.
“Here we are,” he said. With another shift of his tone he became frivolous, “How was your most excellent adventure?” Dad often made joking references to the title of a movie that we had watched together years before.
Standing grinning in reply, I watched while he grabbed his boxers and bent over to step into them. I said, “Dad.”
“Huh, what is it?” was his reply, as he stood upright to begin pulling on his shorts. He paused with his long, soft cock hanging over the waist band and looked at me expectantly for a few seconds. Unspoken words seemed to fill the moment. Then, with a shift of his hips and continuing to look at me, he slowly pulled his underwear all the way on.
Realizing that he had been waiting for me to say something, I found a verve previously unknown and nervously said aloud, “I love what you did with me back there Dad,” while jerking up my own underwear.
Without warning he grabbed out and pulled me to him. As his arms encircled me I heard a mumbled reply when our lips met. My heart swelled while we stood with our bodies and mouths pressed together, our tongues brushing. His hand pressed against the back of my head as our lips ground together and our breathing mingled.
After a long moment, we separated and silently walked in the darkness the remainder of the way to the house.
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